


Noche Buena

by inkwellAnomaly



Category: Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: Angst, Canon Continuation, Tie-in with Makamisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-24 15:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17103329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwellAnomaly/pseuds/inkwellAnomaly
Summary: A series of Noli Christmas one-shots.





	1. In a Wood

Basilio pushed through the thick underbrush until he reached a stream in the middle of the woods. Barely able to see anything by the light of the waning moon, he leapt over the stream, ascending the small mound and arriving at the massive  _ balete  _ tree towering at the center. At the foot of the tree was a small pile of rocks. It was his mother’s grave.

Sitting down, he produced a garland of fragrant  _ sampaguitas  _ \- his mother’s favorite flower - and laid it on the topmost stone. He thought about the events of the past year: being the jeweler Simoun’s accomplice, leaving Manila to become a traveling doctor, going from town to town, amassing connections and resources. Although muted, fury burned in his heart - he would enact Simoun’s revolution or die trying. 

Before long, he heard rustling in the bushes nearby. Standing back up, he readied himself to defend against an attacker; what came out instead was a beautiful young woman.

“...What are you doing here?”

“Forgive me, I startled you. I am here to visit the grave of the man I loved.”

“What is your name, señora?”

“I am Salome.”

“ –The same Salome who used to live by the lake? Why, you were my mother’s friend! It is I, Basilio!”

The woman gasped. She drew closer.

“Basilio? My goodness, you’ve grown,” she said. “It’s been what, fourteen years?”

“Fourteen years, yes,” he replied. “Since I left San Diego.”

“I did not know what became of you! By the time I left for Mindoro, I had heard you were in Manila, serving Capitan Tiago!”

“Yes, and he is dead now!” Basilio related, bitterness apparent in his voice. “He is gone.”

“I had heard that much…” Salome said. “Such a tragedy, what happened to his daughter.”

“ –What brings you here?”

“As I said, I’m… here to visit someone. He also lived in our town. His name is Elias.”

Memories of that fateful night came back to Basilio like a flash of lightning. Elias must have been the first man, the one he and Simoun had burned in a pyre.

Basilio related what had happened to Salome, as well as his own story. Salome’s eyes wettened.

“So this is where he is…” she said. She went over to the pile of stones. “And your mother…”

“Yes, señora. This is where they both rest.”

Salome was silent, deep in thought.

“You said you left for Mindoro, yet you’ve come back. Why is that?”

Salome looked around and made sure no one was listening.

“I am not sure myself. I came to Tiani to sell some of my wares to the townspeople, but some of them recognized me. They knew I was friends with Elias, and related to me what had happened to him fourteen years ago. And so I came here, to mourn him.”

Basilio sighed. He wanted to tell Salome the whole truth, that Ibarra had survived that night and had become the jeweler Simoun, whose revolution had failed after he was exposed as the perpetrator. However, that meant confessing that he was Simoun’s accomplice, and so he remained silent.

“How ironic that we’d reunite all these years later, here of all places,” Salome mused. “If only I had searched for you. But no, I was a foolish, lovestruck young girl who didn’t know any better. I waited at my house for Elias to return, and paid no attention to the world around me.”

“Now that you’ve seen where Elias rests, where do you want to go now?”

“I suppose we should go back to town,” Salome replied.

“Yes. It would be best to get back before sunrise.”

“Oh, Basilio.”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing now?”

“I travel from town to town as a doctor. I had studied a few years of medicine in Manila, so I have some knowledge. The townspeople pay me with lodging and produce from their farm, so I do not want for food or shelter. I just happened to be passing by this year.”

“A doctor…”

“What is it, señora?”

“Would you know of a town that is in need of a good tailor? My aunt sent me here, but to be truthful I do not wish to return to Mindoro. Life there is miserable, and my relatives take advantage of my hard work.”

“Yes, I know a town…”

“Which one is it?”

“It’s just over the mountain from Tiani. It’s called ‘Pili’. Their parish priest, Father Agaton, is a kind man, surprisingly enough.”

“You’ve traveled there before?”

“I stayed there for a few months as their doctor. I plan on returning once more in a few days, since the business there is good. I heard that their town physician is looking for an assistant, so I might finally settle down there.”

“Why do they need a tailor?”

“Well, not the town per se, but the parish itself. The previous tailor was an old woman, and she passed away, so now they need someone to sew the veils of the saints and all that. Perhaps you might like that opportunity.”

“Where are you staying then? Perhaps we can go together,” Salome proposed.

“Just at San Diego’s inn. There’s vacancy, so maybe you can get a room there as well.”

“I think that would be wonderful,” Salome said, smiling for the first time in years.


	2. A Christmas Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basilio wakes up in the afterlife with a mysterious invitation in his hand.

Basilio walked through the dark streets of San Diego - not the real one, but the one that existed in the afterlife, based on everyone’s memories. He had died an old man, but he now appeared as he did during his days as a medical student.

He spied a great house at the end of the street, lit up from the inside with merry-looking parols and decorations hanging from its eaves. The house of Capitan Tiago, he noted, looked like it had a lot more upkeep in the afterlife than it did in the land of the living.

He knocked on the door, uncertain he would get a response. He had woken up on the outskirts of San Diego with an invitation in his hand, asking him to go here for some sort of celebration. A Christmas party, perhaps? Basilio had a hard time remembering the exact date when he died.

Juli opened the door. She looked lively, wearing the camisa she was wearing the day she and Basilio met. She embraced him, resting her head on his shoulders, asking where he had been all this time. However, she did not cry - she never cried, Basilio noticed. She was a strong woman.

“The others are waiting for you inside,” she said, leading him through the entryway. They reached the dining room, where a great feast was prepared - pan de sal, bibingka, hamon, lechon, roast chicken and quezo de bola. Sitting around the table were Simoun, Maria Clara, Crispin, Isagani, Father Florentino, and Capitan Tiago. Sisa entered from the kitchen, holding a plate of dried wild boar and wild duck’s leg. She smiled at him, tears welling in her eyes. Her face was no longer gaunt, possessing the same vitality she had when she was alive.

“Glad you could join us! It’s been a while, hijo.” Capitan Tiago said, standing up from where he was and patting Basilio on the shoulder.

“Kuya, I know you’re the guest of honor for the dinner, but I still get to have the two legs of the chicken!” Crispin shouted, beaming.

“You two can share, hijo,” Maria Clara reprimanded him before going back to speaking with Ibarra. Ibarra turned to Basilio and nodded, unsure of what to say. Perhaps he felt remorseful for conscripting him into his plans.

“Alright, now that he’s arrived, let’s all begin,” Father Florentino said. Basilio was surprised that he didn’t ask them to say grace - did spirits even have to pray?

“Before all that!” Isagani said. “A toast to Basilio, who touched all of our lives.”

“Hear, hear!”

For the first time in a while, Basilio laughed. He laughed until there were tears and his eyes and his sides began to hurt. He had missed everyone so much.

As Basilio sat down, Juli began the discussion.

“Why don’t you fill us in with what’s happening? We only know what’s been going on down below based on the other people’s stories.”

Basilio related what had happened, beginning from the wedding night. Ibarra looked down in guilt, but Basilio gave him a reassuring glance while he told his story. He bore Ibarra no ill will for what he did.

After Basilio finished his tale, of how after the wedding night he traveled around as a doctor, reunited with Isagani and Father Florentino in the town of Pili, tried to enact a revolt before it was put down and he had to flee, and ultimately settled down as a doctor in the remote town of Tulig, where he was beloved by the townspeople and lived the last of his days. 

Sisa dried her tears. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be with you,” she said.

“Now, this is no place for tears. Let us all be happy, for Basilio’s sake,” Capitan Tiago said.

“What matters most is that we are all together,” Basilio said. He said that with full conviction, from the bottom of his heart.

No one could bring themselves to disagree.


End file.
